


Conundrums Lead to Collapse

by SucculentStrawberries



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Anxiety, Between Episodes, Blood and Injury, Collapsing, Comfort, Crying, Dacryphilia, Desperation, Doctor Whump, Embarrassment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s11e05 The Tsuranga Conundrum, F/F, Feelings, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Internal Conflict, Major Character Injury, Male-Female Friendship, Mental Breakdown, Mild Blood, Nightmares, Not Really Character Death, Omorashi, One Shot, POV The Doctor (Doctor Who), Post-Episode: s11e05 The Tsuranga Conundrum, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Regret, Sickfic, Single Chapter, Suffering, Team Bonding, Team as Family, The Author Regrets Nothing, Urination, Vomiting, Wetting, Whump, hints of thasmin but it's not official bc they're still just friends in this, i mean she is nauseous from internal bleeding so, i saw her gasping in pain in that episode and ran with it, into a sobbing mess of anxiety and regret, just minor like a little spit up, not like extreme but just breaking a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 10:59:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16701214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SucculentStrawberries/pseuds/SucculentStrawberries
Summary: The Doctor has done her job, escaped with a minor wound... and fallen to the floor. However, The Doctor never rests, not really. Especially not when past decisions haunt her, when she needs to prove to herself that she's capable, that she made the right choice.She did make the right choice, didn't she?It's difficult to think clearly when you can't even see straight...





	Conundrums Lead to Collapse

**Author's Note:**

> @ the people I promised more silly Doctor Shenanigans, those are coming soon! But this is definitely not that oops
> 
> I saw her gasping and clutching that ectospleen injury in that episode and let me tell you it made my day. I love some good whump c': I never really get a chance to write it so this was an interesting experiment, there were some parts I had a blast with and some I had trouble with, but hopefully it came out okay!
> 
> I haven't written a ton of physical pain before so forgive me if it's a little off, I tried to research spleen injuries and then take a few liberties since it's The Doctor haha. Also since I know it might get buried in the wall of tags, there is omorashi in here so proceed with that knowledge in mind. That was actually my main goal for this but then I got caught up in the emotional parts so it's more a side thing now oops.
> 
> Sorry Ryan's not in this a ton, I still don't know enough about him to write him well RIP. I love him and the rest of Team TARDIS though <3
> 
> Anyways please enjoy The Doctor in agony~

"Pick a number between one and one hundred."

"Fifty-one."  
  
Fifty-one seconds until the bomb went off. Fifty-one seconds to hunker down with Yaz, keeping watch and praying everything was going well with the boys and the birthing and that the General's brother could keep piloting, that the remaining medic was safe. All of these people were counting on her, and she wasn't going to let them down. Hope would prevail, new life would begin where the General's had been lost, and they would land this ship safely.  
  
"Here it comes..." she breathed to her companion out of the corner of her mouth, keeping her muscles ready to spring the moment she had a chance.  
  
Tiny, tapping feet, scampering across the tile floor on all fours. Two massive eyes, gazing around, rows of fangs bared in a sneer as the P'ting observed this new hallway, pausing intermittently. She could hear Yaz's breathing pick up, the tension thickening what remaining oxygen they had left to breathe on this ship as the seconds ticked by.  
  
The bomb was a mere couple of feet away, glowing and pulsing, ticking with a sheer _bounty_ of delicious energy. She could see the little creature sniffing, feelers twitching as it became aware of its presence. _Good job, you've found the cheese you've been searching for... now run along and eat it.  
  
_Thirty-two seconds. The P'ting was just outside of the threshold, cocking its head at the meal waiting just a foot away.  As soon as it ran in to eat it, she could dart out and seal the hatch, and launch it into space.  
  
Twenty-three seconds. It was flexing its jaws, debating, but not quite taking the bait. Her hearts were pounding, so quickly that she could feel the pulses in her throat.  
  
Fourteen seconds, and it took two miniscule steps over the line, stubby tail twitching up and down as it began to circle the snack. The pulses were growing more frequent, the tiny red lights on the bomb's perimeter disappearing one by one as it counted down. She motioned for Yaz to stay silent and still, then forced herself to stand and start creeping forwards, her pace quickening with each step. Lock the door, let it eat and be released, keep everyone else safe. A humane solution for all life-forms involved.  
  
Just as she pulled out her Sonic to activate the door, the P'ting whipped around with a snarl, locking eyes with her as she stared into dark, overblown pupils.   
  
Ten seconds, and she tapped at the button on her device, only to hear empty clicking. The golden light source at the tip remained unlit, and her hearts started to stagger in their rhythm to leave a sickening throb in her chest as it turned away from the bait and darted towards her. _No, you aren't carnivorous! You came here for energy, why are you refusing it?_  
  
Her screwdriver had just recharged a few minutes ago, how could it be dead again?!? Abandoning the tool, she lunged with both hands, clawing for purchase on the thin metal surface. If she could just grab the edge to yank it shut manually-  
  
Six seconds, and it scrambled out from the space between her legs to dart out of the chamber, chattering to itself.  
  
No, they had to dart back and get the silver cover, they had to grab it and throw it out before-  
  
Five seconds. Four. She gave one last call for Yaz to run and bolted towards the bomb. Maybe she could disable it-  
  
Three. Two.  
  
Or shield it with her body-  
  
_One.  
_  
For that last moment, there was a rush of sound all around her, so loud it was overwhelming. The first blast crashing through metal, the rumbling of the ship as it careened, no doubt because their pilot had been knocked out of the equipment by the impact. Sirens, going off with blaring and lights that bathed the area in deep reds. Herself, smacking against the wall, and Yaz's horrified scream as the P'ting lunged to tear into the wall right next to her hiding place.   
  
And just as quickly as all of those noises had burst into being, there was silence. Cold, _terrifying_ silence.  
  
The burst of flame and energy had broken the ship apart in milliseconds, a storm of chaos that left nothing but scraps in its wake. Chunks of metal and wire, adrift in the icy vacuum, slowly being gobbled up by the beast swimming through space. Her ears were ringing, her injury was in such intense pain that it felt like it was _burning_ from the inside, and her vision was blurred with tears. And as her lungs adjusted to the pressure and composition of the particles around her, she saw them.  
  
Yaz, Graham, and Ryan, she saw them drifting ahead of her. Their eyes were bulging, once sweet faces now contorted in a level of agony she could scarcely imagine, their own tears freezing upon their cheeks as they grasped at their throats. Clawing, silently begging her to do something, _anything,_ as they gaped like fish out of water, choking and gagging on nothing. There were ghastly burns in their clothes, in their flesh, speckled with partially-buried shards of shrapnel, but what had just been seared from the explosion was already being taken over by nasty patches of frostbite, creeping closer as their fragile bodies succumbed to the cold.  
  
_No, you can't! I promised! I promised I'd get us all out of here!_

She kicked and flailed, but she might as well have been slogging through honey and quicksand. No matter how much energy she expended, how _desperately_  she cried out in a silent scream or held out her hands for them, she wasn't getting any closer. They were just floating, farther away from the one who was supposed to _protect them,_  the life fading from their frosted, glassy eyes. Her apologies, her _pleas_  were falling on deaf ears.

When had the universe ever listened to the prayers of the Timelord?

_It wasn't supposed to be like this.  
  
_If she hadn't tossed the Sonic back on the ship, she could have tried to cast a shield around them. Adjusted the particles around them to help them breathe, or keep them warm...she could have done _something._ She wouldn't have been _helpless..._

Those big black eyes found their way into her vision as she started to collapse, her limbs too tired to keep kicking out towards a prize she wasn't allowed to keep. The P'ting looked so much less innocent in this darkness, this _destruction._  Moist fangs leered in a wide grin, and before she could do anything, those teeth that had so easily torn the ship apart sank _deep_ into her side.

~~~  
  
_Piercing pain_ was the first thing she was aware of, her eyes shooting open as she tried to roll over and curl into a ball, a whine squealing behind clenched teeth. The noise gave way to a gasp as her attempt at movement made something pull taut, and a glance following the thin tube revealed an empty IV drip attached to her arm, and another couple of drained bags resting on the bedside table.

_What? Where...?_

Glancing down and trying to blink away the bleariness in her vision, she took note of the tangle of monitor wires stuck to her chest, and the pale blue scrubs she was clothed in, the top rolled up to expose skin for the aforementioned wires.

_A hospital? But... the bomb, and the screaming... Ryan, and Graham and-_

The moment she thought of Yaz, her cloudy memory began creeping back in, and she shut her eyes, trying to concentrate. There was a bomb, and an explosion, and the ship... no, the ship _hadn_ _'t_ blown up. She had been with Yaz, and shut the door in time to see the P'ting ingest the explosive, and it had absorbed all of the impact before drifting away from the ship. They... they _hadn't_ died. The General, but not them.

They had piloted the ship safely back to the base, and she'd been promised that they would find a way to return her to the junk planet after they spoke to those in charge about what had happened.

Yes, that was right... A few people in uniform, very professional. She'd volunteered to go first while the others rested, since she was used to explaining these sorts of incidents.  
  
The General, and the discoveries they'd made about the P'ting, and... and...  
  
And then two-thirds of the way through her rambling, she'd gotten dizzy and kindly asked the man to catch her so that she didn't hit the floor. Not something to make much of a fuss about, really, especially since she'd come around after about five minutes, but everyone had already clustered around her. The doctors, her lovely little team... it was silly, really, but she'd finally indulged their pleas to finish her story in one of the rooms while they ran tests and scans and gave her medicine and a rather nice assortment of painkillers.  
  
She couldn't remember much of what they'd said. Dim memories of Ryan, Yaz or Graham's faces popping over her, muttering this or that to chastise her for not mentioning she'd quite possibly been walking around with a ruptured organ. Honestly. Her organs did not _rupture._ They just bruised, or bled quite a lot. Nothing her ship's medical bay couldn't have fixed. She was lucky she'd managed to convince them she didn't need surgery.  
  
The Doctors had eventually claimed she was stable enough to leave alone for a while, and that she simply needed to stay still and rest. She'd managed to convince her friends to leave and go get some rest of their own instead of sitting in chairs watching her, and they'd reluctantly agreed before the medicine finally stole away the last of her consciousness in a sweep of darkness.  
  
"They aren't dead. Just resting." _  
  
_She had to tell herself that a few more times as she rubbed at her temples before she quite believed it. It was just so easy to picture the alternative, something that had felt so _vivid,_ still felt _just as real_ as her own memories...

Logically, she knew _why_ she'd dreamt it. The first bomb had caused her injury and that whole fiasco in the first place, and her body was responding to the physical pain leftover by exaggerating those memories. That... that didn't make it easier to brush off. It didn't stop the chill creeping up her spine in tingling waves, prickling her skin. It didn't soothe the lump gathering in her throat, or the headache forming from the rush of older memories, just as unpleasant... just as sickening...

Before she could allow herself to sink into the murky waters of dwelling on past events or her dream much further, the secondary reason she'd woken up so abruptly became startlingly clear, a jolt running through her system. Now that she was actually conscious, well, _mostly,_ a sharp pressure between her legs caught her attention, throbbing and aching to draw another gasp as she bit her lip, shifting her thighs to cross them.   
  
Glancing back at the empty IV bags with considerably more hatred, she shifted her hips where she lay, trying very hard not to breathe deeply. While she supposed she had needed the hydration, she highly doubted she needed _that much of it._ All of that liquid had to go somewhere, and it had chosen to gather in an incredibly sensitive swell under her navel, the waistband of her loose scrubs digging into it teasingly.  
  
Quite frankly, she was almost shocked she hadn't wet herself during that horrendous dream, but her bladder was making it very clear that she hadn't dodged the bullet yet. She was so full it felt like she would leak with the slightest wrong move!  
  
The remote with the blue button sat on the bedside table, but despite a moment of hesitation, she couldn't find it in her to look at it without at least a hint of disdain. She'd just gotten out of a life-or-death scenario, did she _really_ need someone to assist her with a task that was so much _simpler?_ Of course not. If she couldn't walk across the room, how were they ever going to clear her to leave this place as soon as she had to?   
  
The Doctor did not need to be _coddled._ Attention was wonderful and encouraged, especially praise for intellect or impressive stunts, but that sort of smothering, _pitying_ attention was something unacceptable.   
  
She wasn't _helpless.  
  
_Squinting at the bedside table, she finally spotted her beloved Sonic resting next to the empty IV bags. Yes, she vaguely remembered Ryan and Yaz forcing the medics to let her keep it with her after she'd lost the coherency to... not _beg,_ but insist _very strongly_ that she absolutely _had_ to have it. She couldn't have both of her possessions stolen from her in one day. And she couldn't trust her crew with it, not yet. Ryan might press another button and blow his own head off.  
  
Feeling around carefully, so as not to pull any of her wires out and alert the monitors, she managed to grasp the device and bring it back down towards her, slowly running the golden light over her chest. Yes, all she needed to do was copy the data, and cast it over the monitor in a loop of stable feedback. Then it would never know she'd left the bed. Once she'd set the screwdriver for wireless transmission and pointed it at the screen hanging above her bed, she finally unhooked the tangle of wires and pulled the IV tube out of her arm, biting down on her lip at the burning sensation. Well, that was the price of freedom. Now to get moving.

Pain stabbed through her left side the millisecond she tried to push herself up, and she dropped back onto the bed with a hissed curse, her bladder pulsing even more angrily from the shifts in gravity. Clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut, she fought to breathe through it, the ache radiating all the way up to her shoulder. If she concentrated, she could feel her ectospleen throbbing, angry and hot under her skin. 

_Well, the left side's out, but your right still works. That's half, more than doable!_

Inhaling, she braced herself to bite the bullet, then rolled onto her right side until her foot had fallen off of the bed. Feeling around unsteadily, she forced her right arm to push the rest of her upright, her feet coming together as she stood. Both hands ended up lunging to grip the cushion's edge as her knees buckled, turning inwards to either support her weight or just stave off the nagging urge to void. Maybe both.

_You can do this. You're fine. You're always fine._

Her bladder was throbbing harder as she heaved herself up again, every tremble in her body making the liquid slosh around. Thankful that no one was around to hear her moan, she forced herself to turn, narrowing her bleary eyes at the sea of white and blue ahead. The fluorescence reflecting off of every surface was nearly blinding, and the walls and objects swam until her perspective was warped.

Well, whether the tiny restroom door she was staring at was three feet or _thirty feet_ away, she would make it. She'd traveled far harsher territories on foot than a calm hospital room. What was this smooth tile floor compared to freezing desert sands, or a swamp of liquid cement?

Lifting her foot forwards resulted in a stagger as her hand flew to clutch her left side, fingers clenching against cloth and digging to leave indents in her skin like it would somehow ease the pain, if she could just claw the source out herself. She had to breathe through her mouth, sucking in gulps of air that tasted of formaldehyde and alcohol, doing nothing to ease the steady churning in her gut, a pleasant bout of nausea that had decided to form as soon as she'd started moving. Reaching her left hand out despite the resulting sting from her shoulder, she gripped the silver table resting a foot away, pulling herself towards it in inching steps.

Each move was exaggerating every symptom, until her body was a veritable _symphony_ of gasps and whimpers and stabbing aches in different places. She could feel sweat rolling down her forehead and gathering along the back of her neck, her face flushed with the effort it took to keep walking, to keep fumbling for the next handhold.

Swimming. Everything was swimming. The room, her head, almost as dizzying as the feel of her own discombobulated heartbeat. One was pounding entirely too fast, pattering away with every straining motion, and the other was weaker, slow and skipping intermittently. It wasn't unusual for them to be slightly out of sync to accommodate her needs, but this was definitely too much of a gap. It was starting to make her light of breath.

_You're fine. You're always fine alone. Company is nice, but you don't_ _**need** _ _help, not for something like this._

Shaking her head against the damp hair sticking to her face, she let go of the table to reach for the wall, only for the floor to suddenly rush into focus.

Cold, hard tile lunged to crash into her face, the impact sending fresh pain pulsing through her head. Her skull, her jaw, both were pounding away, and she got a strong mouthful of blood pooling around the deep bite in her tongue, the only thing that had kept her from screaming out loud as her side all but _ripped open_ when she had landed sprawled out. Coughing and spitting until the white floor had been decorated with red droplets, she curled up immediately to try and cradle her pulsing endospleen, the sudden rush of agony making her eyes water.

_That hurts. That really,_ ** _really_** _hurts..._  

She couldn't cry though. Not over this, or about anything else. If she did, she would never be able to stop...

She certainly wasn't going to give up either, not when she was almost to her goal. The Doctor couldn't go crawling back to bed with her tail between her legs. Not that she could make it back to bed and wait for anyone to answer her call, she realized, finally taking note of the patches of warm dampness that were making her pants cling to her skin. Of course she would have lost a shred of control upon the shock of smacking face first into the floor, it was a natural fear response... that didn't keep her cheeks from colouring though, or from pressing a hand between her thighs for a quick squeeze against the insistent pressure.

Sniffing until she'd managed to clear her airways, she removed her hand and tried to push off and stand up again, pressing her full weight against the wall this time, so that her right side was flush against it. She just had to walk for about a foot and a half, then she could support herself with the rolling instrument table for the rest of the way.

She was _so hot._ Everywhere, from the increasing sweat to the crotch of her pants and the heat radiating from her injured organ. That last one almost felt like it was _melting,_ warmth travelling along the skin around it to follow up to her shoulder.

She shouldn't be here. She should be _home,_ comfortable and cared for by the only being who _knew_ her, _really_ knew her inside and out. This hospital... it was good, for most, but... how much could they really help a _Timelord?_ What experience did they have with her biology compared to the TARDIS?

_Maybe I deserve this. Karma, right?_

It was a bitter thought, sharp enough to sting her chest, but as she paused to huff and groan and cross her legs, sinking halfway down the wall, it stayed there, encouraging her to dwell on it.

All of this suffering. It really was because she was selfish. Astos' words rang in her head, looping around in time with the spinning ceiling her eyes were trying to lock onto.

_If I hadn't been so eager to search that junk heap, I never would have triggered that mine. I never would have lost the TARDIS again, or risked-_

_If I had said **no**... If I hadn't let them come with me in the first place, none of this would have happened. They would have been home... Even if I'd been blown up by the first mine, or by the bomb on the ship or the self-destruct, they would have been safe..._

Swallowing a blob in her throat that seemed to be equal parts emotion and acidic bile, she grimaced and straightened back up. Well, more like hunched, but at least it was forwards instead of backwards.

Even if she _did_ deserve this, she wasn't going to wallow. The Doctor faced challenges, she didn't shy away. And once this was done and she was cleared from this place, she would find her ship and take that little 'team' straight back to Earth. No more selfishness, no more stealing them away for her own loneliness.   
  
Shaking hands clawed at the smooth material of the wall, almost losing her grip several times as she fumbled along. She had no concept of what hurt worst at the moment. Her left side was screaming and pulsing with every breath, and she could easily imagine a hundred needles digging into the tender, likely shredded ecto-coating of her spleen. Her chest was aching with the strain of everything else her body was trying to put up with, managing her weakening breaths and trying to keep her hearts in time, as well as the emotional distress. And on top of all of that, she had the distended bulge of liquid weighing down her lower half, having long since passed aching pulses and going straight for stinging jabs and cramps, her most sensitive organ burning and shuddering where tired muscles were holding back a flood. A couple of times she'd made the mistake of breathing too sharply, or parting her legs a few inches too far apart in order to support herself, and a few teasing dribbles would run into her underwear, earning another groan as she fought for control.  
  
_Just a few more steps. You can manage a few more steps.  
  
_Lunging forward, she managed to clutch onto the edges of the rolling table, the layer of different metallic instruments rattling as they were shaken around. Hugging the end towards her chest, she shifted it to start angling her trajectory towards the small door a couple of feet away, trudging towards it with tentative pushes. The scenery was still shifting in and out of focus around her, and her ears were beginning to ring, muffling even her ragged pants, but she was still standing. She was still moving towards her goal, and she hadn't needed to bother anyone.   
  
The door was a foot away when she had to stop to hunch over the table and twist her legs together, shutting her eyes as a wave of nausea ran through her, equally as uncomfortable as the sudden surge of desperation now that her bladder knew relief was so close. As she tried to breathe and straighten herself up, the thought finally crossed her mind that she would _also_ have to endure the walk _back to bed_ after this, but her focus was fleeting, almost like a brush of fog. She'd... she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.  
  
Shaking her head, she finally lifted one hand to reach out and grab the handle.  
  
And that was when the world turned upside down.  
  
One moment she was sturdy, the next her support had rolled out from under her, sending fear jolting through her as she felt the ground rushing towards her again. She'd flailed to claw at the metal again, managing to grip the edge, but all that did was send it tipping upwards and flipping to fall with her. There was tile against her skull, agony in every fiber of her body, adrenaline surging, and _a spectacular cacophony of noise_ as objects crashed all around her, her own strangled cry the loudest of all. And then her head was spinning, the ringing growing louder and her vision going hazier until she could barely focus on anything around her, only able to stay awake by concentrating on her own, whimpering breaths.  
_  
You're alright. Get up._

Fumbling around only resulted in jabbing her hand on some kind of sharp instrument, and she jerked it back, unable to try again before a footsteps started pounding towards her.  
  
"Doctor! What the 'ell are you doin' out've bed!?!" Graham. That was Graham, wasn't it? It was muffled, distorted, and when she tried to sit up and lift her head, all she could make out was a vague outline, haloed by the harsh lights of the room. He rushed back towards the doorway before she could even attempt to speak, calling out. "Kids, both of ya' get over 'ere! The Doctor's fallen!"  
_  
Don't call them in here!_  
  
The Doctor didn't need to be seen like this! But despite her prayers, more footsteps rushed in, and the resulting chatter set her pounding headache up another notch.  
  
"What happened?" Ryan.   
  
"I dunno! I was headin' down to the cafeteria to get our snacks, and I heard a crash! I popped in and she was just lyin' there like that!"  
  
"I'll run and get the staff-"  
  
"Ryan, wait!" Yaz. "We'll get them in a minute, but we need to check on her first!"  
  
"And that's gonna take all three of us?"  
  
"Do you remember what it was like getting her in here the first time? Ryan, you move the table out of the way. Graham, start picking up all of those pieces. I'll try and check her over, see if it's safe to move her to the bed or if we should leave her where she is."  
  
"Got it."  
  
"Right. Don't want 'er trippin' on any of 'em."  
  
Sensing them starting to come over, she forced herself to sit up on her knees, and keep her voice as casual as she could manage. "Oh, hello. Didn't think visiting hours had started yet."   
  
"Doctor, what happened? What are you doin' up?" Graham huffed, snatching up a couple of scalpels.   
  
"Oh, got bored. Fancied a bit of a walk. Just took a little...a little tumble. I'm alright. No need to make a f-"

Her words dissolved into a hitch of breath as every muscle in her stomach buckled, a horrible cramp rolling through her abdomen. The spasm had her hunching over in an instant, her mouth falling open to gasp for breath, only for a surge of hot liquid to burn its way up her throat and spill down her chest as she gagged. Mostly water, it felt like. Probably harmless. Once she could breathe again, even if it was in gasps, she sat up to look herself over, noting the slight red and pink tinges staining her gown.

"That's not good..." she huffed, not quite sure why she was smiling as she attempted to claw her way back into a stand, or at least a crouch. To reassure her friends, probably. Or maybe it was the funny feeling beginning to fill her head, fizzy and tingly.

"Bloody hell, did she just barf up _blood?!?"_

"Ryan, don't worry! It's just a... a bit of internal. It's not like I'm... gonna _die_ on ya'... not _really..."_ Finding her footing, she forced her legs to hold her up despite the earthquake going on underneath them, the room slanting back and forth around her. There wasn't a single part of her body that wanted to move, but she _needed_ to. Her stomach was still churning, but there was also the _much_ more pressing matter of the increasing droplets leaking between her legs.   
  
As much as she wanted to pretend she was still strong, she found her hand shifting to clutch at her left side as fresh waves of agony returned full force.   
  
_Just get to the restroom._

"Doctor, _stop!_ "  
  
Before she could try and take a step anywhere, Yaz had grabbed hold of her. Although she at least had the decency to try and avoid her injured area, it was far from comfortable, and she yelped and flinched against the former police officer's hold. It was much too easy for Yaz to restrain her. Between her own dizziness and the way her legs were shaking, she was no match, all but collapsing to land back on her rear as the woman crouched. She became aware of fingers brushing through her blonde locks and nudging them away from her neck, a tender stroking that threatened to lure her into sleep. Yaz was murmuring to the boys, asking which way she'd been lying when she'd fallen, if they could see any bruises or cuts on her head. The voice was right next to her, but it kept dipping in and out, like she had water flowing in and out of her ears.

_Do **not** think about water.  
  
_Pressing her knees together, even if it didn't help at all by this point, she tried to duck her head away from her captor, a whine sounding in the back of her throat. She was so full, so _unbearably_ full...  
  
"I know it hurts, Doctor. Just let me check you over, and then we can help you get back to bed, alright?"

"No... no, I... I..." Try as she did to get her frantic thoughts in order, all she could force from her lips was babble, half-baked words she was too weak to give proper breath to. She _knew_ what she _desperately_ needed on a base level, but it was impossible to think clearly enough to actually _voice it._ All she could manage as Yaz started lifting her shirt to examine her side were a few whimpers and hisses as she tried, feebly, to squirm out of the woman's grip. How could she be so firmly held in place by _a single arm?_  
  
"Doctor, I'm not going to touch it, I promise! I just want to make sure there aren't any new bruises!"  
  
It was no use. She couldn't even form words anymore, or find the strength to move. Her senses were completely on overload, and dulled at the same time. Jumping between agony she couldn't stand and feeling so weak she couldn't focus on any of it. Such a strange paradox...  
  
She tried her best to tense up, she honestly did, but her best wasn't nearly good enough. Warm liquid started leaking into her pants in short spurts, and her breath hitched, one last burst of terror filling her, but then it was all over. Her entire body shivered as her legs fell apart, and she found herself collapsing, only held up to sit by Yaz's form still pressed up behind her. Urine was gushing out, hissing against the fabric so loudly that she _knew_ all three of them could hear it too, and all she could do was let her head loll, watching with glazed eyes as darker blue patches overtook the light, sodden cloth clinging to frame her crotch and legs. A clear puddle was beginning to leak out to pool on the tile, sparkling in the bright overhead lights and seeping under to warm her bottom. She was positive it was getting Yaz wet as well, considering they were sitting flush against each other, but the woman didn't pull away.  
  
If anything, Yaz pulled her closer. As she huffed and panted for much needed oxygen, as she grew so limp with relief that she couldn't move, her friend let go of her shirt and started rubbing her back in slow, gentle circles. It helped, a little bit, and she closed her eyes, a shaky sigh escaping her lips as the horrible pain began to subside, her waistband finding room, centimeter by centimeter.   
  
It felt _so good,_ to finally let go, to release the flood that had been plaguing her. To just sit and relax, with her friend holding her steady...  
  
_Too good. You shouldn't be feeling good about any of this._

That little, nagging voice was right, of course. What sane, good person would _enjoy_ this? Here she was, causing all three of them to deal with her mess, _again._ Why? Because she was selfish.  
  
Because she was helpless. Because she couldn't stand and walk _the whopping three steps_ to open the door she was wetting herself in front of.  
  
Just like that, any ounce of pleasure or comfort she'd been feeling evaporated, replaced by the heavy, ice cold stone of disgust in her chest. The clear liquid soaking her clothes and skin felt filthy, her face was growing hotter by the second as flames licked at her neck and ears, her throat was closing off again until she thought she was going to vomit for the second time.  
  
_I deserve this._  
  
Instead, her chest heaved in a choking gasp, and she opened her eyes to find her vision had gone completely blurry with tears. Her swollen lip was trembling, the taste of blood and bile still lingering on her tongue and in the back of her throat as she fought to swallow. She was shaking with the sheer effort of holding back, but the moment a tear slipped down her cheek, Yaz's grip shifted to turn her to her safe side, a hand pressing on the back of her head until it was buried in the crook on the woman's shoulder. It was warm, and padded in a soft jacket, and-  
  
She had _sworn_ she wasn't going to cry. But as the trickling of liquid below her petered out, the room was instead filled with her own hiccups and muffled whimpers, new water falling from her eyes to drown the fabric her face was pressed into, each sob wracking her shoulders and encouraging another jab of pain from her ectospleen.  
  
She was _tired._ She was so, _so_ tired.  
  
None of the pills in the universe would numb the pain that _mattered._  
  
It took a good ten minutes before her side was hurting so badly that she had to force herself to stop crying. Or at least, stop sobbing. Silent tears were still running down her face as she sniffed and tried to pull away from Yaz. "I'm sorry..." she croaked out, wincing at the way her voice cracked.

"Doctor, it's alright..." Yaz kept her voice low, soft. She let her have some breathing room, although she didn't let go entirely. Whether it was to keep her from trying to run off, or just to offer support, she wasn't sure.

She was all too aware of Ryan and Graham staring at her. The former had been leaning against the table when it happened, and the latter had managed to collect about half of the scattered tools before he'd stepped out of the way, the rest now having been claimed by the puddle.  
  
"Please don't cry now, love..." Graham murmured, walking away to set the tools on the bedside table. "None of us are gonna judge ya'..."   
  
"Yeah, you've been _a right badass_ for...what, a few weeks now? I think you've earned a free screw-up now and then." She couldn't bring herself to return Ryan's attempted grin.  
_  
I almost got them killed, and they're trying to help me. To comfort me.  
  
I don't deserve comfort. They should be bloody **traumatized** about why they're here to begin with, and instead they're worried about me._

"Why didn't you call?" Yaz asked gently, trying to catch a glimpse of eye contact. She made sure to keep her own gaze on the floor, as much as she resented the puddle she was staring at. "We would have fetched a bedpan for you. Or the staff would have. Didn't they give you a button?"

"I... I thought I could..." She had to pause to breathe, wincing. "-could walk myself. Didn't want... to bother anyone."  
  
"Doc, you aren't botherin' anyone! You saved one of their ships!" Graham pointed out. "And even if you were just a regular patient, you're injured! Injured people aren't bothers for asking for help when they need it!"  
  
"I know, _I know!_ It was a foolish idea! I'm sorry!"  
  
"It's okay, Doctor! We aren't angry, just worried..." Yaz soothed, trying to brush some of the tears away. "You aren't alone, remember? You can rely on us."  
  
Oh, how she _wished_ she could. To stay with her new friends, to have someone to turn to and laugh with and... and cry with. The longing brought fresh tears spilling down her face, and she sniffled, trying to pull away from Yaz. "I _should be_ alone though..." she murmured, as much to convince herself as anyone else.  
  
"What do you mean?" Ryan crouched down to join them, trying to look her in the face.  
  
Taking another shuddering breath, she tried to force some of her emotion down, but for every ounce of sadness she boxed away, a spark of frustration seemed to take its place. Rubbing her arm across her face, she shook her head. "I shouldn't be relying on you lot to fix me. You shouldn't even _be here!"_  
  
"Doctor, we aren't going to leave you here-" She didn't let Yaz finish speaking, turning to cast a watery glare at her.  
  
"You could have left me! _Forever._ Don't you _understand_ that? If that ship hadn't picked you up from the junk piles, you all would've... or if I hadn't lured the P'ting out and closed the hatch in time..." Her voice cracked again, and this time she couldn't regain it, her shoulders hunching in another round of silent sobs.  
  
"Doc..."  
  
"Doctor..."  
  
All three of them were crowding around her now, and she _loathed_ the way she kept relaxing into their pats and rubs, the hair combing and soothing whispers.   
  
"This isn't really about your accident, is it?" Yaz whispered, tilting her chin up so that she was forced to make eye contact. Those dark brows were furrowed, a tiny valley of creases in the skin above her nose. _Always the detective, aren't you, Yaz? Gold star.  
  
_"I'm sorry. I'm so, _so sorry_ for everything. I promised I'd protect you, all of you."  
  
"But you did. Ya' got the whole ship thing sorted out."  
  
"Yup, not to mention the spider incident, or when we were on that planet with the flying bandages. You've saved our hides every time, a bloody _perfect_ score!" _  
_  
"But on the junk planet, _I_ was the one who set off the mine! There was nothing I could do except for jumping on it, I-I couldn't disable it, or get the three of you out of range! I can regenerate, but _you_ can't! If the medics hadn't come along, it would have been _the end,_ all because of _my_ carelessness! And even if the medics saved your lives, you almost died again, just because we were there!"  
  
"But Doc, we _helped_ people because we were there!"  
  
"I can help people _on my own!_ I'm not a liability, you three _are!_ Taking you along on these trips isn't all fun and games, it's _a risk._ _Every single time,_ I _chose_ to take that risk, and that was wrong. It isn't _fair,_ not to you." Reaching to pull her knees up to her chest, she sighed. "I've been horribly selfish, keeping you all around for my own gain, even though I knew the consequences. Look at me. Is _this_ the sort of person you'd trust your lives with? Incapacitated by _one_ injured organ?" Oh, she just had to laugh. A short, bitter laugh. Judging by the looks on their faces, her cheery smile didn't have the same affect in situations like this. Fair enough. She'd been a bit too nice anyways, in the time she'd known them. A bit desperate to be liked, really.  
  
"Doc, darlin', do you really think we won't trust you?" Graham's face distinctly reminded her of a kicked puppy, and guilt pricked at her chest again. Why were they making this so difficult, following her so blindly? What could she say to help them understand that sending them home would be for their own good, that it was better this way?  
  
"The problem is that you _do_ trust me. Too much. I'm still figuring myself out. Who I am, what I'm capable of. I'm going to make a lot of mistakes before I get everything down. I mean... what if I don't live up to who I was? What if I can't-"  
  
"What if you're _better?"_ Yaz interrupted.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Think about it. You're so focused on the negatives, you haven't stopped to think of the bright side. What if you're even better, this time around? What if you can do things you couldn't before? Maybe some new, useful skills? A new perspective? You said you get to decide who you are, right? What if you decide to be the greatest Doctor yet?"   
  
"I... I've seen a lot of people die. But the idea of that happening to _you three,_ especially because I wasn't responsible enough..."  
  
"Doctor, stop. Just listen to me." Yaz gripped her by the shoulders, and she found herself swallowing her protests at the commanding tone in the woman's voice. "I was willing to risk my life on Earth. When I decided to become a police officer, when I got out of bed every morning, I _accepted_ the fact that I would be at risk. That it might be my last day, if something horrible happened. I don't feel _any differently_ about risking it out here, if it's in the name of helping someone. Whether that's an alien race, or other people, or _you._ "  
  
"Yaz has a point." Ryan spoke up, pulling his arms back to stretch for a moment. "I mean, I'm not a cop, but I didn't have much of a life goin' for me on Earth. I didn't know what I wanted to do, and if I'm honest, I don't think there's much I _could_ do. I don't have any special skills, or grand opportunities waitin' for me back there. I would've just been stuck in that warehouse. But out here, working with you? I'm learning a lot. I think I could find something out here I'm damn good at. Even if I only live for, like, five more years, that's a hell'v'a lot better than fifty back there doin' the same old thing."  
  
"See Doc? We're all on board whether you like it or not! And we're fine with the danger, even if I make jokes about it and complain from time to time. I told you I didn't have anything waiting for me back in that house. But you know what I have here? You. Yaz. Ryan. I'm not going anywhere if you're all out here. I'm old, I don't have much to see back on Earth. But I have _a whole flippin' universe_ of things to learn about and see out here. Whatever time I have left, it's worth it. I won't have any regrets."  
  
It was funny. As the last of the Timelords, she sometimes longed for stability, for peace and safety. But humans were so quick to toss all of that aside in the name of adventure the moment they caught a taste of it. She wanted to argue. She wanted to beg, convince them that they were wrong, that she needed to take them back.  
  
She wanted them to _stay._  
  
She wanted to show them a world of whimsy and wonder, to give them experiences they would never forget. She wanted to make an influence on their lives, however brief they may be. She wanted to talk to them, and learn from them, and have someone here with her when she was hurting, someone _living_ and _breathing_ and not a robot or a ship's consciousness.  
  
"I... I don't know..."  
  
It was so hard to think clearly, rationally, when she was in a state like this. There were so many body parts sending signals to her brain, so much commanding portions of her attention. Every breath filling her lungs still hurt, and even though she was trying to focus on at least one of their faces whenever they spoke, the corners of her vision were still blurring in hazy white, threatening to close in if she let her awareness slip.  
  
"Doctor, you said back on the ship how important it is to have hope. That's what you need to find right now. Have hope for yourself, and for us, the way we do. Things will work out, just... give it some time."  
  
_Have hope...  
  
_How clever of Yaz, to throw her own words back at her. It was difficult to argue with The Doctor, after all.   
  
"You aren't being selfish, you know." Yaz added, tucking a tickling blonde strand behind her ear. "It isn't like you kidnapped us. We all wanted to be here. We _want_ to be here _with you._ We believe in you. _"  
  
_Despite her current state and her exhaustion, she felt the first genuine smile tug at her lips. Maybe... just maybe, the three of them were right. Maybe it was better for them, to be out here gallivanting around. If they _really_ wanted to be here with her...  
  
She'd honestly meant what she'd said back there, on the ship. Hope _was_ a powerful force. She'd just... lost sight of that herself, for a bit.   
  
"I'm sorry. I suppose I was more shaken than I'd thought, by all of that. In the moment, I had all that adrenaline, but... it all kind of hit me."  
  
"Well, you're pretty banged up with all the runnin' around ya' did the first time they tried to treat ya', and from movin' around now. It makes sense you'd crash, start panicking _._ " Graham huffed. "Once you get some rest, your head'll be clearer."  
  
"Yeah, get healed up first. Then you'll feel more like a proper ass-kicker. You'll be able to protect us, I'll bet on it." Ryan chuckled.  
  
"Graham, Ryan, why don't you two go fetch the medics now? I'll stay here with the Doctor." Yaz suggested.  
  
"Got it, Yaz."  
  
"We'll be back soon. Don't strain yourself, Doc, let 'er take care of ya'!"  
  
As they darted out of the room, Yaz turned back to her, rubbing her shoulders with her thumbs. "Okay, let's get you cleaned up a bit before they get back. Now, can you stand slowly? I've got you..."  
  
Yaz kept a firm grip as they rose up, and she ended up putting most of her weight on the woman as they shuffled towards the restroom, her legs shaking the entire way until she collapsed to sit on the closed toilet lid. Water ran from the faucet as her friend located a clean cloth and some soap.  
  
Leaning back and letting a hand rest on her side with a slight hiss, she let her gaze slip towards Yaz. "Thank you, for everything. All of you. I'm sorry for this whole mess."  
  
"Doctor, stop apologizing."  
  
"Sorr-I mean...okay."  
  
The warm cloth started easing along her legs, slowly and meticulously. It was a comforting sensation, even if it was a bit embarrassing, so she ignored the impulse to ask to do it herself, instead shutting her eyes and focusing on the feeling itself. Yaz wasn't getting too close to any personal areas, and as long as she didn't, she had no reason to protest. Yaz's voice drifted back into her ears.   
  
"It's fine, and it's in the past. Are you feeling any better? Still gonna ditch us?"  
  
"Actually, I feel like hell. The thirty-seventh layer of hell, to be exact." she huffed. "But... I think you've convinced me to keep you. And the boys. I... I like it much better, when I'm with you all."  
  
"Then... can I ask why you changed your mind so suddenly? I know you explained some of it, but we've all been in danger before. Why was this the one that set you off?"  
  
"I... It's going to sound silly, in retrospect, but... I had a dream, earlier. About the ship. And the P'ting. And you. The team. It... wasn't pleasant in the slightest."  
  
"You can tell me about it, if you want. Might help. Venting and such." Yaz offered, running the cloth up the other leg. "But remember, it's just a dream, right? It isn't real, and it won't happen. We're _here_ with you. We're all _safe._ And we aren't leaving you, not right now. We're staying in the room this time too, no matter how much you fuss."  
  
"A proper trio of leeches, you lot." she scoffed, pretending to roll her eyes.  
  
"Hey, you've done all the protecting so far. It's time to give up the spotlight and let us have our turn. As long as you're recovering here, _we're_ protecting _you._ Once you're healthy, you can return the favour. _"_  
  
Perhaps it was just the tiredness making her decisions for her, or the warmth in her chest she always felt when Yaz was around, but she decided to deem that deal fair enough. She would resign herself to that boring hospital bed, and let them swarm and fuss and pamper her, if it would ease their worries. Oh, she needed to stop lying to herself. She would enjoy being able to relax and revel in the closeness of having a lovely group of friends with her, friends who had managed to ease her own worries, for the most part.  
  
And when the time came, she _would_ find her path and be the greatest Doctor yet. She would make sure that she was strong enough, that she would protect them against any odds, find hope in the darkest corners to ensure their safety. She would repay that favour _tenfold._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment or kudos, I love hearing from readers even if it's just a couple of words! <333
> 
> I feel like the first 2/3rds of this were better than the end, just because the idea evolved and dragged on longer than I intended and I got so into the whump mood that I had trouble writing the comfort part, but maybe I'm just critical because I've been starting at this for days straight haha. Either way I'll only get better with practice.


End file.
